ts from day to day; and, when she sees the leaves fall,
they raise no other idea in her mind than that winter is approaching.
Since that time I have gone out there frequently. The children have
become quite familiar with me; and each gets a lump of sugar when I
drink my coffee, and they share my milk and bread and butter in the
evening. They always receive their kreutzer on Sundays, for the good
woman has orders to give it to them when I do not go there after evening
service. They are quite at home with me, tell me everything; and I am
particularly amused with observing their tempers, and the simplicity of
their behaviour, when some of the other village children are assembled
with them.

It has given me a deal of trouble to satisfy the anxiety of the mother,
lest (as she says) "they should inconvenience the gentleman."

MAY 30.

What I have lately said of painting is equally true with respect to
poetry. It is only necessary for us to know what is really excellent,
and venture to give it expression; and that is saying much in few words.
To-day I have had a scene, which, if literally related, would, make the
most beautiful idyl in the world. But why should I talk of poetry and
scenes and idyls? Can we never take pleasure in nature without having
recourse to art?

If you expect anything grand or magnificent from this introduction,
you will be sadly mistaken. It relates merely to a peasant-lad, who
has excited in me the warmest interest. As usual, I shall tell my story
badly; and you, as usual, will think me extravagant. It is Walheim once
more--always Walheim--which produces these wonderful phenomena.

A party had assembled outside the house under the linden-trees, to drink
coffee. The company did not exactly please me; and, under one pretext or
another, I lingered behind.

A peasant came from an adjoining house, and set to work arranging some
part of the same plough which I had lately sketched. His appearance
pleased me; and I spoke to him, inquired about his circumstances, made
his acquaintance, and, as is my wont with persons of that class, was
soon admitted into his confidence. He said he was in the service of
a young widow, who set great store by him. He spoke so much of his
mistress, and praised her so extravagantly, that I could soon see he was
desperately in love with her. "She is no longer young," he said: "and
she was treated so badly by her former husband that she does not mean
to marry again." From his a